"Neither do I," Kavinsky said, a rare honesty. It was the absolute truth, too. He didn't remember dying, but he knew he had. There was no other option, the dragon bearing down on him, heat rapturous and raw on his skin and then all this. The steady descent and disappearance into this place that was nothing like the church had told him it would be like.

Ronan spat venom, but Kavinsky only grinned. He put a hand on Ronan's chest and trailed it up, pausing briefly on his neck once more. It wasn't a threat this time. It was a promise.

"We're the same thing," he said. His thumb swept up to Ronan's jaw, but he wanted to have his hand higher, to touch his mouth with more of that filthy promise. Ronan looked ready to bite; he preferred his fingers intact. "It's not all magnets. Like craves like."